Dearest Auntie Elsa
by StarPotterTwilightHunger
Summary: When Anna dies in childbirth, Elsa and Kristoff have to work together to raise Anna's daughter: "Kristoff smiled, though this belied a look of hurt as he pointed out, "Elsa... she's my daughter." "And though I didn't carry her, never brought her into this world, in a way... she's my daughter, too," Elsa reminded him. "Like it or not, reindeer man, we're the parents." Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Ripped Away

**Chapter 1: Ripped Away **

"Come on, Anna, just a little more!" Elsa encouraged.

Anna let out one more wail before flopping back into the pillows. "I can't!" she cried. She sounded close to tears. "I'm so tired, and I just can't," her voice dropped to a whimper.

Kristoff pressed a kiss into his wife's temple. "Yes, you can, Feisty Pants," he coached. "And here, take my hand before you break Elsa's fingers."

Anna glared up at him fiercely. "If I ever get out of this, I'm going to break more than your fingers," she swore. "I'm gonna break that body part that put a baby ox in me in the first place!"

Kristoff winced, and was relieved when Elsa saved him with a laugh. "I highly doubt your baby will look or be shaped anything like an ox, my clever little sister. She'll be pretty, like her parents."

Kristoff frowned. "I am _not_ pretty."

"Oh, yes, you are," Anna assured, as Elsa giggled. However, in the next moment, Anna was pushing again, straining against a contraction. And her words were not nearly as loving. "Holy fuck, Kristoff, you are going to pay for this!"

"The baby is crowning, Your Highness!" the midwife encouraged, where she was perched at the bottom of Anna's spread legs. Anna leaned back, weeping from agony and sheer exhaustion.

"Kristoff... I love you!" she wept. Man, her emotions were see-sawing from one place to the next. Kristoff only hoped that they stabilized once the little baby was out in the world. Then, with a final, wrenching scream, Anna shoved the baby out of herself, and collapsed back into the bedclothes with a crash. She lay still as the midwife wrapped the bloody, squalling thing in a blanket and whisked her away to be cleaned. Kristoff broke into a beaming smile.

"Anna, you did it!"

Elsa, who had followed the midwife out into the hall to observe the cleaning, came flitting back in. "It's a girl!"

"Did you hear that, Anna? A little girl, just like we wanted!" Kristoff brushed back Anna's sweaty hair. Still, the Princess did not respond. Kristoff shook her. "Anna... wake up! It's over! Anna?" he frowned in deep concern.

Just then, the midwife and a team of nurses came swarming back into the room. Thrusting the baby bundle into Kristoff's arms, the midwife rather brusquely dismissed them. "You need to leave now." And she forced the Queen and the Arendelle Ice Master out into the hall. The siblings-in-law looked at each other, Elsa's face etched with worry.

"What do you suppose is wrong?"

"I don't know. But it can't be very good, can it?" Kristoff shrugged.

Minutes passed like hours. Hours passed like days. Kristoff was starting to regret leaving Olaf and Sven to wait in the stablehouse; he could have used one of the live snowman's famous hugs right about then. His sister-in-law's demeanor wasn't helping matters - the hem of Elsa's ice dress swished fretfully around her ankles as she paced. Icy particles emanating from her restless feet quickly turned a stretch of hallway carpet into a river of slushy snow. Frost crept onto the walls, quickly followed by jagged icicles. Elsa must not have been particularly concerned with concealing right then, for she was obviously feeling a whole hell of a lot. Meanwhile, the shadows grew longer on the walls as the sun made its trek and eventual descent across the skies.

A click of a lock as the doorknob turned shook both Elsa and Kristoff from their thoughts. The midwife emerged, looking a little pale. Or maybe it was a trick of the rapidly rising moonlight.

"Your Majesty? Sir Kristoff?"

They both stared at her, faces primed with tension.

"The... the Princess... has passed away, ma'am," the midwife directed her report to the Queen. "I'm so very sorry."

Elsa's face contorted, twisted itself the way that ice might with someone's reflection. "ANNA!" The scream was blood-curdling, heartbreaking, as Elsa barreled her way past the poor midwife and burst into the Princess's private chambers. Though it was rude, Kristoff took his cues from his sister-in-law in his haste to follow. He emerged into his and Anna's room to find Elsa flinging herself prostrate over the bed, which still cradled her sister's motionless form. A pool of blood was Anna's blanket.

Elsa's entire body convulsed in wracking sobs - sobs that she wept bitterly as she clung to Anna's lifeless body all the tighter. Guards entered the bed chambers as discreetly as they could - perhaps summoned by Kai or another servant - and attempted to lead the Queen away without making too much of a scene. But Elsa would have none of it, she was past all reason, and though she batted away all touch with just her arms, Kristoff knew it wouldn't be long before icy blasts started flying, if she was pushed too hard in a direction she didn't want to go. "NO! NO! You can't tell us that! You can't - you _can't_!" Elsa seemed to be directing the broken wails to the poor midwife, as much as her cries of denial served as a refusal to be separated from her beloved sister.

It did the guards no good - nothing could keep Elsa from nestling Anna's body in her arms. "Guards," Kristoff commanded quietly through his own tears. "Leave us in our grief." The guards reluctantly obeyed, casting looks of sympathy and pity at their Queen as they went. The midwife stayed behind, by now back to holding the baby in her arms. Kristoff paid them no heed as he crossed to the bed and rested a hand on Elsa's shoulder, staring down at his wife forlornly. His Anna... so vibrant and full of life. Now all that energy just... sucked away. Gone. The accursed word tolled like a bell in his head. _Gone_.

Kristoff broke down. "Oh, my Anna... my beautiful, beautiful wife!"

"Oh, Kristoff! My poor, poor Kristoff!" Elsa wept, throwing her arms around him.

They held each other like that until the rising of the sun - the first day without Anna - blinded their sleepless eyes. By now, the midwife had been sent to bed, the baby cocooned between the warmth of her father and aunt. A quiet creak at the door alerted the broken family to a new presence - the Captain of the Guard, looking worn and apologetic.

"Your Majesties... we must have your orders regarding what is to be done with the Princess." He winced at the numb look displayed by Kristoff, the horrified look sent by Elsa.

Kristoff cleared his raw throat, willing it to work. "Dress her for burial. Give her the ancient rites."

"She is to be... laid beside our parents," Elsa elaborated. "Thank you, Captain. We will take care of the rest."

The Captain dipped his head in deference, then from the room he fled. Kristoff passed the baby to his wife's sister.

"Here. Look after her, sister. I think my daughter will be better off in the arms of a Queen."

Elsa gazed at his retreating back. "Kristoff... what are we going to name...?"

"Rest! I need rest." And Kristoff stalked from the room.


	2. Chapter 2: Tongue Lashing

**Chapter 2: Tongue Lashing**

Not long after Kristoff had left, Gerda entered the Princess's chambers to find Queen Elsa in a rocking chair, the baby cocooned in the crook of her arm. Anna's body still lay on the bed, though Gerda had heard it would be taken away soon to be dressed for burial. The sight of Anna, no longer here and cut down so young, disturbed the maid greatly. She approached the Queen, staring down at the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. Gerda sighed, tears threatening to make her weep.

"The gods have deemed it fit to punish us! Trade one life for another - it is outrageous! Curse the child of Princess Anna!"

Elsa's head snapped up, her eyes flashing dangerously. "May your tongue be _blistered_ for uttering such a wish!" She turned her attention back to the baby lovingly. "She was not born to such shame. She is here to bring us happiness, as this family has known grief. Such is the miracle of life."

Chastened, Gerda bowed her head. "May I ask what name Her Highness gave the little one?"

Elsa paused. "She did not name the baby before she... perished," and the Queen choked on the last word. Elsa traced a finger along the baby's face. If Anna was not here to name her child, the task might fall to her then. She thought about getting Kristoff, the father, but he had made it clear he needed rest. And so, recalling one of Anna's favorite spots in the whole castle, she decided:

"Joan. Her name is Joan."

Gerda bowed again. "Very good, ma'am."

"And Gerda?"

"Yes, my Queen?"

"Tell my Council to report to the Treaty Room at once. Here -" and she passed Joan to Gerda. "Have the nursemaids attend to her until I return."

Gerda bowed once more. "It shall be done, my Queen."

Left alone, Elsa prepared to receive her Council. As she looked upon Anna's body for what would probably be the last time, she made an impulsive decision. Gingerly, she removed the Wishing Star necklace from around Anna's neck. It would be the one thing she kept of her sister, to remember her by, and perhaps it would be something to show Joan when she was older.

Blinking back tears, Elsa fled from the chambers.

* * *

It was impossible to avoid addressing the elephant in the room, as Elsa's Council trained their eyes on their Queen. All the Council members had been informed of the Princess's tragic death in childbirth, and each of them attempted to express their condolences as eloquently as they could.

"The monarchy is diminished, Your Majesty."

"Princess Anna's name will be exalted until Arendelle ceases to be."

Elsa accepted these testimonials with a small nod of her head. Her Prime Minister cleared his throat.

"Your Majesty... what shall your next steps be?"

Elsa subtly wiped at her eyes. "My brother-in-law and I will discuss how we shall raise the child."

The Council members glanced at each other, and right away, Elsa could tell they knew something that she didn't.

"Your Majesty... we have been informed that Lord Kristoff intends to leave the palace as soon as possible. A stablehand has reported that he is readying his sleigh and steed as we speak."

Elsa blinked, her mouth falling open. "Leaving?"

The Secretary of State shrugged. "All people deal with the loss of a spouse differently, Majesty. Perhaps it is best that he departs to be alone in his grief." Some of the other Councilmen were nodding gravely. Elsa could see why at least some of them were not particularly concerned about Kristoff's departure. Not all of her Council had taken to Kristoff's presence in Anna's life enthusiastically; misgivings had been voiced about the Princess courting, and then marrying, a commoner. Elsa's motion to make Kristoff a Lord had barely passed, by a single vote, and that result was more out of fear that Elsa would otherwise freeze anyone who dared vote Nay, never mind that Anna would have sent right hooks flying in every direction. Elsa really wouldn't have resorted to such intimidation - she was a queen, not a despot - but the specter of fear had nevertheless proved useful, for once.

"Is the Ice Master still in the stablehouse?" Elsa demanded.

"The sentries have not noted his sleigh's departure, so yes, Majesty, I believe so," the Prime Minister reported.

Elsa stood and nodded to her Council. "Thank you for this information, gentlemen. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must speak with my sister's husband." And she swept from the Treaty Room.

* * *

Elsa was relieved to find Kristoff still in the stablehouse. His sleigh was laden with supplies, Sven already hitched to the front. Her brother-in-law's back was to her, as he loaded a hefty crate into the back of the sled.

"Hey, reindeer man!" Elsa called. "You owe me an explanation!"

Kristoff turned to her, his expression somewhere between blank and hard. He didn't glare at her, but he did appear indifferent at her presence. "What, for why I'm leaving? Because my wife is DEAD! You were there!"

Elsa frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "So what is your reason for abandoning your daughter?"

Kristoff scowled. "I am not _abandoning_ her. I am giving her the best possible life. And that it with you. You'll be a better parent than I ever could be!"

Elsa let out a little, offended laugh. "Better parent... have you _met_ me? I'm still afraid of touching people, for fear that I'll freeze them instantly! Mothers are supposed to be warm and fuzzy - I'm not that!"

"Then you'll learn," Kristoff shrugged. "And for the record, I think you can be warm and fuzzy. Look at you and Anna. You can do it!"

"Not without you!" Elsa said forcefully.

"Elsa -"

"I won't lose you the way I lost my Anna!" When that didn't get him the way she thought it would, she had to command, "Halt! I order you to halt!"

Kristoff froze, turned back to her slowly. "You _order_ me?" he gaped with disgust. "Am I just your subject now?"

Elsa faltered, now deeply regretting her tone. "No. But you are still my family. As is my sister's child, Kristoff. And you are her father. That is never going to change." Encouraged that he wasn't moving, that he actually appeared to be listening to her, she drifted closer, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "I know you miss her. I miss her, too. But running away from your problems is not tenable long-term. Believe me, I know. There will be a time and place to grieve, but it isn't out there, and it isn't now. We will honor Anna at her funeral, but at present, Joan needs us. She needs her father."

Kristoff blinked. "Joan?"

Elsa blushed, glancing down, afraid again that naming the baby had not been her place. "I named her. After..."

"After Anna's favorite painting," Kristoff finished for her.

Elsa bobbed her head. "Exactly."

After a moment, Kristoff too nodded. "It's beautiful. Thank you." Encouragingly, he unhitched Sven, then turned to his sister-in-law. "Take me to my daughter."

* * *

Kristoff and Elsa found Joan in the nursery, with the nursemaids apparently fighting over her and who was going to feed her.

"I want to hold her!"

"It's my turn!"

"The little princess deserves only the best milk!"

Kristoff's face crumpled as he remembered. "She... she was going to nurse," he murmured brokenly.

Elsa quickly got between the fray. "Girls... girls!" The nursemaids all stopped in their squabbling to bow reverently before the Queen. "If anyone is going to wean this child, it will be me, as her aunt." Upon noticing a few disappointed faces, Elsa's brow furrowed gently. "Come now... do you not think it is right and proper... for a baby princess to nurse at the breast of her Queen? Is it not an honor?"

The nursemaids guiltily handed Joan over to Elsa, who undid the straps on the bodice of her ice dress. Uncomfortable, Kristoff elected to turn his face to the wall and away, out of respect.

"Kristoff," Elsa laughed. "I don't care if you see me."

Kristoff didn't move. "You're my sister by marriage," he got out, strangled. "I _care_, all right?"

Smiling, Elsa drew Joan close to her breast. "Here we go, precious..." she crooned. "You hungry?"

Almost immediately, the baby latched onto Elsa's breast and greedily began to suckle. Elsa winced in pain, but gradually, the discomfort subsided as Joan feasted. At that moment, Elsa felt a deep connection with her niece, as she gave of herself so that Joan might have sustenance.

It was the greatest love the Queen had ever felt.

* * *

The sky was overcast on the grassy hill where two stone obelisks marked the final resting place of King Agnarr and Queen Iduna. Beside the headstones, a soon-to-be marked grave was unearthed, guarded by rock trolls.

The drums beat ominously as Kristoff Bjorgman carried the shrouded body of his wife in his arms, approaching the grave site. Off to one side, in black clothes of mourning, Queen Elsa buried her face into Gerda's shoulder and wept.

Gingerly, Kristoff laid Anna beside her grave, pausing to lift the shroud from her face. In that instant, he was taken back to the moment when he had lifted her veil on their wedding day, her face beaming and blushing. The sobs came fast, hard and without warning. Bending over her, Kristoff kissed Anna's lips in a final goodbye. "I love you!" he hissed brokenly. Then he laid her in the grave, which Bulda and the other trolls began gently filling with earth.

Nestled in Grand Pabbie's arms, Joan's wails echoed across the plain...


	3. Chapter 3: Walking and Talking

**Chapter 3: Walking and Talking**

It was a beautiful spring day out in the courtyard of Arendelle's palace, as Elsa and Kristoff watched baby Joan crawling along the cobblestones. A playful Olaf toddled after her, entranced by the child. The baby and the magical snowman had quickly become great friends.

"Watch this, Joanie!" And Olaf sent a tiny flurry her way. Joan, clearly annoyed, batted away the flakes.

"Wha-wha!" she babbled. When Olaf persisted, Joan suddenly struggled to stand on her own two feet, so as to better get away from him.

Elsa stood, her eyes wide. "Kristoff, look! She's trying to..."

Joan teetered, and looked in danger of toppling over, but Kristoff moved fast, catching his baby daughter and holding her upright. Elsa knelt across from them a short distance away, her skirts billowing out around her. Fixing Joan with a beaming smile, Elsa held out her arms. "Come on, Joanie! Come to Auntie!"

Joan's face creased in a puzzled frown that reminded both Queen and Ice Master painfully of Anna. She took the first step with her father still holding her. Then Kristoff hesitantly let go, hovering just beyond her. Joan took another step, then another, a wobbly third, then a flailing fourth and fifth that sent her toppling into Elsa's arms.

"You did it!" Elsa's face could have lit up the sun as she nuzzled Joan close. "Auntie and Daddy are so proud of you!"

* * *

Joan was wailing as her tiny bottom half was exposed to the cool spring air. Over the changing table, Elsa tried to placate the infant. "It's all right, sweetie, it'll be over in a minute... Kristoff, can you hand me a clean nappie?"

Kristoff dug around in the cabinets and nooks under the changing table. "I'm not sure... exactly where she put them..." he muttered half to himself. "I'm not sure where Anna..." he faltered, tamping down the raw emotions his wife's still-recent death brought him. At last, he got his hand on a box of nappies. "Ah, here they are!" He tossed the lot to Elsa, who took one from the stack and fastened the clean nappie around Joan's waist. Then, Elsa picked Joan up and placed her gingerly in her crib; waving a hand, the Queen conjured a mobile of icicles and snowflakes for her niece to admire. Giggling, Joan tried to bat at the snowflakes. Both Queen and Ice Master deflated in relief. Seeing how down he looked, Elsa placed an encouraging hand on her brother-in-law's shoulder.

"We'll have to work together to raise her. That's what family does. We'll make it through. We have to."

* * *

Another warm morning, Elsa was feeding Joan breakfast in her high chair. The Queen made a point to attend the morning meal with her family, before locking herself in her study for a few hours so Kristoff could play with his daughter. Then, the parenting duo would trade off. At this particular breakfast, Elsa was trying to get Joan to identify her father.

"Open up, Joanie! Say 'Papa'! Can you say 'Papa' so you can get the yummy cereal?"

Joan didn't move. Elsa frowned, befuddled, then tried again. "Open wide, Joanie! Say 'Papa'!"

"Pa... pa..."

Elsa gasped, nearly dropping the spoon. "Kristoff, did you hear that?" she called back. "Her first word!"

Kristoff abandoned his breakfast with a clatter and circled the table. Inspired, Elsa pointed to him. "Joanie, who's that?" A pause. "Who's that?"

"Papa..." The syllables came together more confidently this time.

Elsa shrieked with delight and hugged her. "Yes, Joanie, yes! Now: can you say 'Auntie'?"

Joan stared at her blankly, then spat up on her bib.

Kristoff chuckled. "We'll work on it."

* * *

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Joanie, Happy Birthday to you!" Elsa and Kristoff sang, as a beaming Elsa presented her baby niece with a slice of cake and a candle on top. Ever conscientious about safety, Kristoff waited for Joan to make a wish (whatever a baby's wish might be) before blowing out the candle himself. As Joan mashed her face into the cake, Elsa turned into Kristoff's side for a hug, trying to hide her tears.

"One year," she rasped.

Kristoff nodded slowly, resting his head on top of hers. "One year," he echoed.


	4. Chapter 4: She's You

**Chapter 4: She's You**

It was night, with a sky full of stars, as Kristoff made final preparations in the courtyard to go out on his ice harvesting expedition. His five-year-old daughter, Joan, clung to his leg.

"But when am I gonna be old enough to harvest? I can cut that ice same as you!" she pouted.

Kristoff laughed as he knelt before her. "I'm sure you could, little Feisty Pants. But I need you to stay here with your Aunt. Be sure to mind her, now."

"But Papa..." Joan whined.

"Joan," Elsa murmured from the doorway of the palace. "Listen to your father."

"And you listen to your aunt," Kristoff reiterated. Seeing Joan's lingering disappointment at being left behind, he smiled. "Remember: ice harvesting is here... and here... and here..." He pointed to her head, her heart, then her arms. "You've got the first two down, but we need to build you up first. Make you big and strong. When you're older, we'll go out together. I promise." Kristoff hugged Joan goodbye, then approached his sister-in-law. The pair shared a chaste kiss on the cheeks, and Elsa wrapped him in a hug.

"Ride safe."

Kristoff leapt into his sled, clicked the reins, and Sven took off for the open castle gates. Elsa waved goodbye, and Joan blew a kiss after him.

* * *

"Joan!" Elsa trilled out a laugh, as her niece sent an errant splash her way from the bathtub. The little princess always took her nightly bath before bed, and it was an activity that Elsa loved to engage in with her as often as she could.

"OK, Auntie Elsa, I'm done!"

"Not yet," Elsa warned. "Did you wash behind your ears?"

Joan pouted, but sank back down into the suds, permitting her aunt to scrub her ears and behind them. Lifting her niece out of the tub, Elsa then dried her with care. It was an intimate ritual, but one that Elsa adored. It made her feel... motherly, in a way that she wanted to be for Joan, and in a way that Joan needed.

"Now, pajamas and then to bed with you," Elsa ordered gently.

"Yes, Auntie." Joan dressed herself, then padded down the hallway to her room. She and her father still lived in the Princess's private residence. Joan slept in the nursery, while her father remained in his chambers, in the same bed he had shared with Anna.

Elsa glided into the nursery to find Joan belly-flopping onto her bed, scrambling up to pull the bedclothes back. Elsa moved to help, turning the comforter down and tucking Joan in. A gentle kiss on the forehead. "Good night, precious."

"Auntie?"

"Yes, Joan?"

"Will Papa be home soon?"

Elsa bit her lip and frowned. She never could tell or predict how long Kristoff's journeys into the mountains would take him; it all depended on the snowfall. "Well, yes, I suppose he will. I should hope so. Papa always comes back, you know that."

Joan accepted this, satisfied, and then: "Auntie?"

"Yes, Joanie?"

"Will you sing for me?"

Elsa smiled, and drifted down onto the bed, pushing back Joan's curls as she sang her a lullaby - a song that was far more tender than how she had once sang it long ago:

_"Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back anymore... let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door. I don't care what they're going to say. Let the storm rage on... the cold never bothered me anyway..."_

* * *

It was a peaceful Saturday morning as Elsa and Kristoff took a leisurely stroll through the village of Svogveld, just beyond the gates of the palace. Weekend constitutions like this one afforded Elsa the chance to interact directly with and hear from her people. It also afforded Joan the opportunity to play in the sunshine and experience being a normal child. The young girl had already made many friends among the village children, and was playing with several of them now, just inside the Children's Pavilion. Elsa kept Joan in her sight at all times, and she could tell, just off to her right, that Kristoff was doing so, too.

As Joan grew, Elsa had become obsessed with trying to determine whom she resembled more - her mother or her father. Naturally, she hoped that Joan would display a significant resemblance to Anna as she grew, but her niece already resembled Kristoff in one respect - her blonde hair. When Elsa now posed the question to Kristoff, however, her brother-in-law began to laugh.

"What?" Elsa asked.

"She's you, Elsa. Can't you see?" Kristoff chortled.

Elsa frowned. "No, I don't." And she admitted this honestly.

Kristoff pointed out to his sister-in-law what he meant. "The shape of her face, her nose... that's all you."

Elsa blushed. "That's all _Anna_," she corrected.

"Maybe Anna and yours side of the family," Kristoff conceded. "But don't think for one minute that Joan hasn't inherited anything from her aunt. You'd be surprised." And he ran to collect his daughter, leaving Elsa to her thoughts.


	5. Chapter 5: My Baby

**Chapter 5: My Baby **

Elsa stared up in horror at her brother-in-law, flabbergasted by the suggestion he had just floated.

"Absolutely _not_!" The Queen said forcefully, rising from her desk. "Joan is ten years old - she is too little to go with you into the mountains!"

"Elsa, I'll be with her the entire time!" Kristoff entreated. "And we're not going that far into the mountains - we'll camp overnight at my family's, by the hot springs!"

Elsa cocked a skeptical eyebrow. "That's pretty far up."

"Not _that_ far," Kristoff shrugged. "It's only a little beyond Wandering Oaken's Trading Post and Sauna."

Elsa sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought we agreed that Joan would go on an ice harvesting trip with you when she was older."

"Yeah. And she _is_ older. We said that when she was, like, five. She's big enough to handle herself, never mind small tools. And I will be within arm's-length of her at all times. Sven will look after her, too." A pause and then, more quietly: "Anna would have wanted her to learn the family trade. As much as she is royalty, Joan is a Bjorgman, too."

He had her there. Elsa huffed out another breath. "For Anna's sake, I will allow it. But I need your word that Joan will be safe."

Kristoff smiled, though this belied a look of hurt as he pointed out, "Elsa... she's my daughter."

"And though I didn't carry her, never brought her into this world, in a way... she's my daughter, too," Elsa reminded him. "Like it or not, reindeer man, we're the parents, and we both have a stake in Joan's best interest. That means we need agreement and trust. It's what family does."

"I will always trust you when it comes to Joan," Kristoff promised, meaning every word. "But do you trust me?"

Elsa peered at him closely, as she worked through her answer. "I trust you with my life," she spoke at last, recalling their journey many years ago to Misthaven. "And I trust you with Joan's. You're her father."

Beaming with relief, Kristoff wrapped Elsa in a hug, which she allowed. "Thank you, sister. I won't let anything happen to her."

* * *

Kristoff paused the sleigh in front of a sheer cliff face of ice. Behind him, Joan stared at the transparent wall dubiously.

"Are we _climbing_ that?"

"Gods, no," Kristoff assured her. Joan wasn't ready for that quite yet. "We'll be harvesting from the bottom." He exited the sleigh and gathered his tools. "Now, remember, Joanie: you only handle a tool when I directly hand you one, or when you are passing one to me. This is sharp, dangerous weaponry and their application is quite serious. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," Joan said solemnly, her mother's teal eyes staring back at him.

Father and daughter set to work. As he chipped away at the ice, Kristoff taught Joan the song that ice harvesters had passed down to him as a little boy: _"Beautiful, powerful, dangerous, cold. Ice has a magic, can't be controlled... stronger than one, stronger than ten, stronger than a hundred men!"_

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"If you need so much ice to make a living, why can't Auntie just make you some?"

Kristoff paused. In all his years knowing the royal family, he had actually never thought of that. "Well, sweetie... your Auntie is an amazing woman, but she's also very busy. Besides, getting ice from her would be like cheating. And I bet making all that ice would make Auntie Elsa very tired." There. That seemed like enough of a non-bullshit answer.

Joan nodded, accepting the explanation. All at once, there was a rumbling and a deep sharp crack. Then a scream.

Down a few feet away from his daughter, Kristoff didn't turn around until it was too late. When he caught sight of Joan, his stomach dropped when he saw her lying still amidst shards of ice. A block of the stuff must have been jostled loose higher above where the pair were harvesting.

"JOAN!" Kristoff ran around to her and knelt, furiously shaking her. "Joan!" Drawing back, he was horrified to feel the stickiness of blood on his hands, coming from a gash on Joan's head. "Joan?! Oh, Gods, please..." Kristoff whimpered. He had seen a sight like this once before... and he'd be damned before the outcome was the same.

Picking Joan up in his arms, Kristoff loaded her into the sleigh, then clicked the reins. "Sven: go! Go hard!"

* * *

Sven thundered his master and little mistress home to the castle in record time. They had barely entered the courtyard before they heard Elsa's piercing scream. The Queen rushed forward, holding up her skirts, and snatched an unconscious Joan out of Kristoff's hands. "What happened?"

"Block of ice fell on her," but Kristoff wasn't sure if she even heard him. Elsa was flying to the castle with Joan in her arms, meeting the royal physician on the staircase.

"Doctor! Doctor! There's a gash..."

"All right, Your Majesty, I can see that... come this way..."

"Doctor, please save my baby! Please!" Elsa was crying hysterically, wringing her hands and appearing unwilling to let Joan out of her arms, never mind her sight. Once sequestered in the royal infirmary, Kristoff had to lead her away.

As soon as the adults were out in the hall, Elsa rounded on him. "You were supposed to keep her safe! You told me you would keep her safe!"

Frazzled himself, Kristoff wasn't in the mood to be lectured by the Queen - even if she was the aunt of his child. "Sister, I do the best I can with her! I did the best I could today. A slab of ice fell on her, and I brought her right back here! It wasn't anything I could have planned for or stopped. Ice can be very unpredictable - you, of all people, should know that!"

Elsa faltered at her brother-in-law's forceful defense. "I guess you're right. And you reacted quickly..."

Kristoff relaxed, too drained to be angry. "I was scared, too, you know."

Elsa nodded softly, oddly not meeting his eyes. "I believe you." A pause and then she said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I thought I was past that, when I agreed that Anna could marry you."

Kristoff peeked her cheek, accepting her apology. "It's OK. I'm sorry I yelled. For what it's worth, I am grateful for how freaked out you get over my kid. You're a fine mother."

Elsa started, noting how he didn't say the word _aunt_, but accepted the praise all the same. The doctor now emerged from the ward.

"Your Majesty? Lord Kristoff? Joan is awake and alert. The gash has been healed. She's a little dazed, but with some rest, she should be just fine."

Elsa nearly collapsed in tears of relief. Kristoff deflated. "Thank you, Doctor." He held out a hand to the Queen. "Let's go see our girl."

Smiling weakly, Elsa took his hand, and they entered the ward.


	6. Chapter 6: She's As Good As

**Chapter 6: She's As Good As **

"Now, can you tell me when the kingdom of Corona was first settled?"

Joan bit her lip, tapping her pencil along the desk in thought. "1554."

"Very good, Joan!" Elsa praised.

In addition to being the Queen and an aunt/surrogate mother, Elsa also took it upon herself to guide Joan in her schooling. Although the many lessons the pair went through would not be used for future monarchial aspirations, as they had been for Elsa, the Queen knew that Joan would have to be educated in all manner of subjects in order to be a proper lady of society. Anna had never been much of a student in her youth, but even she would not have denied that her daughter needed a good education.

As Elsa paced around Joan's desk, in the little schoolroom they had set up in the Queen's study, Joan noticed how her aunt kept fingering a pendant around her neck. "Auntie Elsa?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did you get that necklace?" Joan pointed to the trinket. "Did a sweetheart give that to you?"

Elsa started, blushing furiously at the idea that she had ever had a sweetheart, even as she trilled out a laugh. "Heavens, no! This..." and her voice grew wistful, sad. "This was from your mother."

Joan's eyes brightened. She never tired of the stories Aunt Elsa would tell her about her mother. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm. Actually, it was originally a gift from me to her: something new, for her wedding to your Daddy. But then... when your mother died..." Elsa gulped, blinking back the tears. "I kept it, to remember her by. Someday, when I die, I will pass it on to you."

Joan gazed at her, before reaching out a tentative hand. "Can I see...?"

"Of course." Elsa held out the chain so that Joan could examine the pendant. Its purple stone glistened in the light. "It's called the Wishing Star."

"Why is it called that?" Joan asked.

"Well, once it held the power to grant its wearer one wish. And one time, when Auntie missed your mommy and daddy very much, I wished to see them again and they appeared."

"It's beautiful," Joan marveled. "I shall wear it always when I have it one day."

Elsa smiled softly. "I hope you do."

* * *

That same afternoon, the Council called a meeting very unexpectedly. Elsa was more than a little peeved that she had to cut Joan's lessons short to accommodate them. Entering the Treaty Room, she leveled at her advisors one frown to make her displeasure known. "What is the meaning of this summit, gentlemen? I have very important business to attend to."

"As do we, Your Majesty," the Secretary of State expressed as respectfully as he could. "Concerning the future of Arendelle."

Elsa frown deepened, thrown. "Namely...?"

"Her Majesty's future heir," the Prime Minster spoke up. "And when you might be open to courting a suitor."

Elsa's face fell. And here it was again. Ever since Joan's birth and the death of the Princess, the Council had, every so often, floated to Elsa the question of when she might get married and bear a child. Before, Elsa had successfully fielded the inquiries by claiming she had more important matters, namely securing the safety of Arendelle and raising her niece. But neither of those could keep the question at bay forever.

"As I have said, gentlemen: when I do marry, I want it to be for love as much as for Arendelle's advantage. But in helping my brother-in-law raise my niece, there has not been enough love to go around for me to open my heart..."

"Oh, for pity's sake, Your Majesty, stop trying to pretend that Princess Joan will be your heir!" the Secretary of War snapped in frustration.

Elsa bristled at his tone as much as his accusing words. "Whenever have I suggested that I am grooming her for such a task?"

"She's not your daughter," the Prime Minister reminded Elsa in as gentle a voice as he could.

Now, _that_ statement Elsa took the most offense to. "She's as good as," the Queen declared firmly. "Who else has she got?"

"Her father, the Lord Kristoff!"

"And where is her mother?" Elsa cocked a challenging eyebrow. "Joan needs a mother's care, as much as she needs her father!"

"And you need a child! An actual, _biological_ one," the Secretary of the Treasury stated heavily. "An heir for the throne. And playing... house with your niece isn't going to delay that inevitability!"

Elsa's eyes flashed dangerously. As crudely as her advisors were putting it, they were nonetheless right. She would have to marry, and bear a child, and soon. Elsa was in her thirties, and not getting any younger. There was nowhere left to hide, even if she knew that she had not been hiding behind Joan.

"I will consider your words and draw up a list of eligible suitors, gentlemen," Elsa conceded. "But this is the last time you presume to lecture me on the familial dynamics of my own house!" And she swept imperiously from the room.

* * *

"You can make me your heir, please."

When Elsa asked Joan what she could do for her once she came in her study, this was _not _an answer she expected. Obviously, it had to be a joke. "I'm sorry?" Elsa asked in disbelief.

"I want to be your heir," Joan repeated, without any jokes in her voice. That made it scarier for Elsa. "Then you don't have to be arranged married."

Elsa's jaw would have dropped if she was Joan's mother, or anyone other than the Queen. Even now, it was difficult to keep her face still. "Where….where did you get that idea?" she asked.

"Those guys need you to have a baby. The whole castle talking about it. Well, I'm 10 years older than a baby!" Joan did the math. "If I'm your heir, I'll be way ahead of a baby! And you don't need to be married or pregnant or anything!"

Elsa's jaw went down a little that time, as she scrambled to point out, "Joan….first of all, you're already my heir. You're second in line for the throne, after your father."

"I can still do it!" Joan insisted. "If something happens to you before I'm 21, Daddy will rule. Then he'll step down and I'll take over."

Now there was a way this made sense. It made Elsa relieved – probably more than anything else the last three days. "Does your father know that?" Elsa asked. "You can tell me if this was all his idea, you know. I swear, that man tries to protect me even more than you do!"

"I can't, cause it wasn't. I thought of it myself," Joan said proudly, not looking like she was lying. She truly was Anna's daughter, so she had obvious tells when she was lying – and none of them were on her face. So much for relief.

"It's perfect, Aunt Elsa!" Joan still thought. "You tell them you don't need a young heir, cause you've already got one! I'll study real hard to be Queen for eleven years, like you did! Then if I gotta be Queen when I'm 21, I'll be ready and they'll know it! And if you live for another 50, 80 years, I'll be _real _ready then!"

Elsa wasn't ready to deal with this, though. After three straight days of making a list for potential suitors, she wasn't ready for anything to make things worse. Let alone _this _much worse.

"Joan….do you understand what studying to be Queen means?" Elsa asked. "Even if I could have played with your mother when I did it, I wouldn't have had time. You've had a real childhood because you _haven't _had to train like that. It'll be _over _if you do this."

"It's okay. I had a good run," Joan figured.

"No, it's _not_ okay!" Elsa snapped a little early, but she was losing the need to care. "You can't _choose _something like that! You can't….sacrifice _so much_ of yourself just for someone else! Even family!"

"_You _did. For Mom," Joan didn't miss a beat. And that almost broke Elsa.

Being reminded of her past was still painful enough, even now. To have Joan do it like this was something else entirely. Her youth was slipping away.

And now she _wanted _to leave for good, all to save Elsa? That….that couldn't happen.

"That was different," Elsa got out. "I never wanted that for a second. If I knew love would thaw back then, I _never _would have done it. It wasn't really my choice."

"But I'm choosing it now. And_ I'm_ still gonna see you guys," Joan pointed out. "It won't be so bad."

"Yes, it will!" Elsa kept arguing. "You haven't thought this through!"

"Have _you_?" Joan challenged. "I can do this, Aunt Elsa, I really can! You don't have to marry someone you don't love! Not for a baby! You don't need one, you have me! You can tell them and it'll be okay!"

"It _won't_. I'm not putting this on you. I never asked you to, and I never will," Elsa reminded. "Besides, only the top people are going on the list. No one who isn't worthy is going anywhere near me."

"Didn't Hans look worthy too?" Joan really got a low blow in. Elsa knew that she and Kristoff should have saved that story for when Joan was 18, if not older. But she did come prepared. If she was that ready to debate Elsa on this, then….

"Joan, this isn't you!" Elsa snapped herself out of it. "It shouldn't have to be you!"

"And you shouldn't have to do _this_, so we're even," Joan came back again. "I know you don't wanna. But _I _wanna do this. I promise I'll study real hard and do everything teachers tell me! There's a first time for everything, right?" she pleaded. "I swear I'll be even better at it than you!"

"You're _not_ me!" Elsa snapped, rising to her feet. "And you're not my daughter! It's time we _both _stopped kidding ourselves!"

Joan had no answer for that one. Elsa couldn't brag, though, given how she was shaken up herself. But it had to be said – it had to be admitted. Things had gone far enough already because she wouldn't.

"I can't pretend anymore," Elsa told Joan and herself. "I can't use you or your father as a surrogate family of my own. I can't use you as an excuse not to find _my own_ family. My own husband and child. And I can't…. I can't pretend that not having that, not even _trying _to find it, is _normal_. Not for a Queen. Without that kind of love, I'm probably….incomplete."

"You don't need it!" Joan got her voice back. "You and Mom didn't need it to end winter, remember? That's the whole reason I was born, remember?"

"Your daddy had something to do with it at the end…." Elsa carefully reminded her.

"Not then! You didn't need love from a guy or a prince then! And look what happened! So you don't need it now! Not cause they told you to!" Joan argued.

"I can't believe _Anna's_ daughter told me that," Elsa sighed. "And there's the whole problem again. You're already trying to be me. With all the time we've had together, you probably _are_ half me. Hell, your daddy thinks we look and act alike! Right down to….sacrificing your happiness and your family when you didn't have to. And going _so _far to protect someone that you can't see it."

With new determination, Elsa resolved herself to say, "Well, that's _not _happening again. I'm not letting you put all that on yourself. I'm not my mother or father, you're not me, and that's how it's going to be."

"You're gonna give up just to protect me?" Joan came back. "So….isn't it happening again now anyway? Can't it happen with you being happy this time?"

"I won't be if you're….see, you're not supposed to think like that!" Elsa tried to ignore her and get back on track.

Joan started to get upset this time. "I can do this!"

"Well, too bad!" Elsa lost her patience. "If anything happens to me before I get married, your father will be King. _Then _you'll be next in line. But that's the _only _way that's going to happen!" she laid down the law. "But it's not going to happen. Not after I send invitations to everyone on the list tomorrow. So by this time next year, I'll probably be growing a real heir of my own."

"But Aunt Elsa…." Joan tried to go full on puppy dog.

"That's not working for this. Even if you are Anna and Kristoff's daughter. But you are their heir, _not _mine," Elsa decreed. "You're going to have a care free childhood like you deserve, and you're not going to throw it away for me. End of discussion."

"It shouldn't be," Joan still refused to see reason.

"That's how it is," Elsa assured, figuring she should get out of the study and end this while she was still ahead. But Joan didn't make her that lucky.

"But I love you! Shouldn't _someone _rule by your side who loves you? Without being forced to?" Joan asked. It was one question too many.

"That's not your concern," Elsa just wanted to get away, no matter how she did it. "It will not become your concern. And that is the _last _I will hear about it from you! Are we clear?" When Joan didn't answer, Elsa got impatient enough to add, "_I _am the Queen, and I asked you if we're clear!"

"We're clear…." Joan finally said quietly.

Unlike most times, Elsa didn't let herself see the sadness in her face or voice. Or the slight fear. She just made herself leave the study and shut the door on Joan before she could follow.

* * *

"She looked so dejected, Kristoff... oh dear, I'm so sorry I snapped at her..." Elsa fretted later to her brother-in-law.

Kristoff only chuckled. "She had it coming, sister, and you know it, so don't feel too remorseful."

Elsa bit her lip. "Tell her I'm sorry for being so short? I'm touched that she cares so much for me."

Kristoff nodded. "I'll tell her. She'll understand. Joan idolizes you, Elsa. You know that."

Elsa smiled weakly. "That I do, brother. That I do."


	7. Chapter 7: Suitors

**Chapter 7: Suitors**

Upon submitting her finalized list of eligible suitors to the Council, Elsa sent out invitations to the princes so that they might come to Arendelle and try to win her hand. Only one would be chosen to court and marry her, after a long screening process by the Queen herself.

Kristoff made it clear that he didn't like the idea of Elsa marrying for political advantage, even if it might also be for love in the bargain. The specter of Hans still loomed large, and it made Kristoff wary of letting any man near the throne of Arendelle again. Having someone try and maneuver himself close to Anna had been chilling enough. To have not one but several men - some of whom had motivations that may or may not be clear and virtuous - vying for the affection of his sister-in-law left Kristoff's nerves shot. Sure, he and Elsa squabbled sometimes, especially when it came to how best to raise Joan. But Kristoff had to admit... he truly loved Elsa as a sister. She had loved Anna, and Anna had been the greatest love of his life. He would not settle for anything less than the best man for his wife's sister, and if he had to voice his opinions directly, so be it. Apparently, his headstrong daughter had already made her opinions on the matter quite clear. Elsa's vow that to win her, her suitor would have to win over her family did not assuage either Bjorgman's fears. As the story of Hans had long ago taught them, some people were really good pretenders.

A group of five princes and lords were the top contenders for the Queen's hand. They came from all over: Andersen, Corona, Prydain, the Eastern Isles. Their ages were equally widespread, some older, some younger. Only two could be said to be around Elsa's own age. They were all handsome, well versed in manners of etiquette. Kristoff and Joan would often look at each other and silently wonder: how was Auntie Elsa supposed to choose? And what if she chose wrong? And what if her choice wasn't who he presented himself as?

Over the next several weeks, Elsa allowed herself to go on private dates with each of the men. Often, these outings had to take place beyond the castle grounds, as Joan would try and spy on her Auntie for any signs of romance, much to her father's displeasure.

The weeks quickly turned into months. And still Queen Elsa had not made her choice. The five nobles waited and waited, quickly becoming frustrated when she did not come to a decision.

And that is what led a subset of the suitors to hatch a plan.

Prince Emerson of Prydain had connections with nefarious characters within the Arendellian crime world - pirates and kidnappers who were not above committing atrocities for a small fee. Gathering several other suitors together, Emerson convinced them that the key to winning Queen Elsa's heart lay with the young Princess Joan. To get to Elsa, they would have to go through Joan... or at least, play on their relationship.

"The Queen is practically her mother; she will do anything for the little brat," Emerson had said. "Even marry one of us. But I have a design that's even better. We can turn this into a contest amongst ourselves. If my associates put up a ransom, and we play the heroes... Elsa will have to fall in love with one of us!"

So it was that four of the suitors snatched a sleeping Joan from her chambers in the dead of night and prepared to hand her over to professional kidnappers, to be stowed on a ship docked just off the coast of Arendelle. A ransom note would be posted, and then the suitors would engage in a frantic search for the little princess, eventually leading them to the boat. Betrayal of these kidnapping ne'er-do-wells was required, of course, but the kidnappers didn't have to know that. And the double crossing would be simple, Emerson assured - petty criminals such as these men possessed little in the ways of smarts. They were thugs, not con artists. With at least one suitor playing the hero, the Queen's heart would be won.

However, the one factor that the four suitors had not counted on was their fifth compatriot... who just happened to wander into the courtyard as the nefarious transaction was being carried out.

Prince Viljar of the Eastern Isles was a handsome youth of 25, the baby and all-around runt of the group. Though Elsa had been wary of entertaining anyone from a kingdom with the name 'Isles' in it (again, the specter and memory of Hans), Arendelle had a strong relationship and trade agreement with their eastern neighbor, even if relations with their southern neighbor had soured. He was soft, but well-spoken, and very intelligent. His date with the Queen had been, by all accounts, very successful. Still, the other suitors paid him little mind. They thought he would be the first one eliminated, if not by his age alone, then by other factors.

But now, Viljar was walking right into the middle of their splendid little scheme. Recruiting him to their cause had been a risk Emerson refused to run - Viljar presented himself as too much of a goody-goody. A hunch that now proved right.

"What are you doing with the little princess?" Viljar's piercing green eyes narrowed suspiciously.

One of the brutish kidnappers advanced forward with a broadsword menacingly, but paused when Emerson stayed his hand. Violence would not be necessary, if the evil prince could avoid it. For a man of Viljar's size, sheer intimidation should work well enough. "Get out of here, runt, this doesn't concern you. Perhaps you might thank us later, when Arendelle finally has a new King."

Viljar didn't know what was going on, but he had enough clues before him to work out a rough theory. Though he didn't voice it, his theory turned out to match Emerson's ultimate plan, beat for beat. It was all a matter of logic, after all. If this, then this. And right now Viljar knew that if he left quietly, then bad things would happen to an innocent little girl, and down the line, to the kingdom of Arendelle. The best interests of both entities compelled him to stay right where he was. "No, Emerson." He wagged a finger. "You leave that little girl alone."

Viljar didn't know if he could fight all of these men at once. Besides his four rivals for the Queen's hand, there were two kidnappers - and all of whom were a lot bigger than him. Six against one were terrible odds, and the differences in size only made those odds worse.

Thankfully, though Emerson was a devious tactician, any intellect he had flew promptly out the window when pitted against his short fuse of a temper. The Prydain prince now advanced on Viljar threateningly. "All right, short stack... you asked for it, and now you're gonna get it!"

Viljar threw a desperate punch, but Emerson caught it and then twisted his arm back. Viljar's face contorted in pain as he was bent around and away from Emerson, with the latter still twisting; any farther, and Viljar's arm would be in danger of breaking.

In that moment, Viljar was twisted in a way that left him with a good view of the princess, stuffed in a burlap sack. The sight filled him with a rage stronger than any sheer physical strength - stronger than the presumptive arrogance Emerson now had etched all over his face. An arrogance that can lead men - like Republicans, white supremacists and rural voters, to name a few examples in today's world - to do really stupid, retarded shit, and not pay attention to what they are doing.

In the same way that Emerson was not paying attention to Viljar's free and currently untwisted arm. The arm that now reeled back and swung, laying down the evil prince with one punch.

As the other stunned suitors and two kidnappers made to overwhelm Viljar, an icy blast sent them all spinning off their feet. Queen Elsa of Arendelle was flying down the stairs, a mixed look of terror and indescribable rage on her face. Lord Kristoff brought up the rear, wielding a pickaxe.

"You would dare to kidnap my sister's baby and deceive me? _Me_?" Elsa screamed. "Get out, all of you! Out!" The kidnappers and evil suitors picked up an unconscious Emerson and fled from the palace. His one arm badly sprained, Viljar made to follow, but the commanding and regal voice of the Queen stopped him:

"Not you. You stay."

Viljar turned and stared, as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen descended the rest of the staircase and approached him. Smiling gratefully, she dared to peck him on the cheek.

"Thank you, Prince Viljar, for your bravery. Arendelle owes you a great debt. I would like for you to remain a guest at the palace, so that you may court me."

Viljar glanced between the Queen, and the Lord Kristoff, who had freed his daughter from the burlap sack and was in the process of consoling her. Gulping nervously, and with a faint blush to his cheeks, he bravely dared to accept the Queen's extended hand. Though Her Majesty was ten years his senior, matters such as that could be discussed later. Right now, just getting to know each other and in another, new light, would be enough.

* * *

In the weeks after the Great Freeze and Thaw, Elsa's sleeping patterns had been thrown permanently out of whack. It was something that had never been completely stopped, only heightened - all the more so at very stressful points in her life.

When Anna disappeared into Mist Haven, Elsa didn't sleep for a week. After Anna succumbed to childbirth, nightmares of either Kristoff, or worse, Joan dying dominated Elsa's dreams for months. In moments like this, when Elsa couldn't sleep, she found herself wandering the halls of the castle. Alongside that, she would try reading a book.

During the worst moments of her isolation, the books in her room had been all Elsa had to comfort her. Some of these stories were the same ones she now read to Joan at bedtime. After the Great Thaw, Elsa was allowed access to the castle libraries, increasing the number of tomes she could pursue exponentially.

As a child, Elsa had found the fairytales and other fantasy stories to be very comforting to her. In them were princesses just like her, who had hopes and dreams, to better themselves and fall in love. She had always hoped that, in spite of everything and all that she was, that someone would come to love her, too. In as strong a way as Anna and later Joan loved her... and perhaps even more.

Elsa's feet now carried her into the castle library. The moonlight from the high windows cast an ethereal glow on the bookshelves and reading tables. It was piercing through the storm clouds, as a thunderstorm raged on outside, punctuated by rolling thunder and sudden flashes of lightning.

As Elsa rounded one corner, a clap of thunder boomed at the exact moment that she bumped into something - or rather, someone. There was a startled shout, and Elsa nearly screamed herself, until the subsequent flash of lightning gave her just enough of a look at the person also wandering these halls.

"Viljar?"

Viljar flinched, his eyes looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty - I mean, Elsa." (The pair had been working their way to addressing each other by name and not title). "I've always had trouble sleeping, and it's gotten worse ever since the attempted abduction, and so I find myself wandering the halls at night. It's... comforting, in its way."

Elsa peered at him for a moment, before averting her gaze. "I have trouble sleeping, too," she found herself admitting. "Ever since I was a little girl. Usually, it's because of nightmares or reliving... bad things that have happened to me and my family."

Viljar nodded. "I can understand that," he conceded. "Though I still can't even begin to imagine what those losses must have been like. I have heard the servants speak highly of your sister, the late Princess. Some still weep for her. I have no doubt she was a wonderful woman, if her sister and child are any indication."

Elsa blinked, astonished at the prince's kind eulogizing of her sister. "Thank you," she murmured, moved almost to tears.

A deafening clap of thunder made both royals start. Viljar jumped nearly three feet into the air, and almost right into Elsa's arms.

Time seemed to slow. The temperature in the library seemed to heat by several degrees. Practically in each other's arms, the look between Elsa and Viljar was charged. Elsa felt her eyelids grow hooded as she studied this man. This was the man who had risked his life to save her precious niece. This was the man who had just extolled her dearly departed sister - a woman he had never even met, yet whom he spoke of as if he knew her. If he cared as much about those dearest to her, then surely...?

Viljar eyed her cautiously. "Elsa...?"

She couldn't help it. Elsa kissed him, taking his face in her hands as a bolt of lightning sharply illuminated the library. In the next moment, her eyes had closed and she parted her mouth, deepening the kiss, coaxing his tongue in between her lips like a snake charmer manipulating a serpent. After several heated seconds, Elsa drew away. Her face was permanently flushed, but her eyes were hopeful, as she wondered how Viljar had felt about the kiss, whether or not he liked it. She admitted she had no previous experience when it came to kissing anyone - she had shunned physical affection from her father after a time, out of fear, and with Kristoff, it was never anything more than chaste, familial pecks.

But she shouldn't have doubted herself or wondered, for with the next clap of thunder, Viljar was pulling Elsa close and kissing her full on the mouth in return. Their tongues quickly came together in a passionate dance, and tightly gripping her waist, Viljar lifted Elsa off her feet. She flung her arms about his neck and moaned sweetly. "Hmmmm..."

With a wave of her hand, Elsa was suddenly possessed to melt her ice dress away, so that she stood naked before him. Viljar seemed captivated by what he saw, if the tent in his pants was any indication. He was frantic in his haste to undress himself, Elsa moving with surprising assertiveness to help him. In between, the couple would share desperate pecks, unable to resist kissing each other.

The moon was now high in the sky as through the glassy panes of one window, Elsa and Viljar groaned as they undulated against each other in heat. Viljar was peppering kisses to Elsa's lips, her face, and her eyes which were half-lidded in ecstasy. Then, Viljar knelt before the bewitching Queen and buried his face in between her legs, tasting her arousal.

"Mmmmm... Uhhhh..." Elsa groaned, pushing her perky nipples up against the window, her head lolling back and her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. As her handsome prince ravished and deflowered her...

* * *

They were wrapped in each other's arms underneath a blanket, naked as babies. Elsa kissed Viljar lovingly.

"Elsa..." Viljar murmured into her lips. "Is there anyone I would need to go to, in order to get permission to marry you?"

Elsa gaped, quite stunned that he had proposed. Viljar wanted to marry her. Someone loved her and wanted to _marry_ her. "Well," she weighed breathlessly, "maybe we should ask..."

"Kristoff and Joan?" Viljar guessed. Laughing, with foreheads touching, the couple shared a chaste kiss.


	8. Chapter 8: Unbreakable Vow

**Chapter 8: Unbreakable Vow**

It was evening, the sun sinking low and fast over the mountains, when Grand Pabbie approached Elsa. "Are you ready, Your Majesty?"

Elsa, clad in an icy white bridal dress made from her magic, took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Grand Pabbie."

Kristoff suddenly appeared by his sister-in-law's side. "Madame... may I have the pleasure of giving you away?"

Elsa beamed with affection. "I'd be honored, dear brother."

Kristoff escorted Elsa down the aisle, jammed on either side by his troll family. Underneath a canopy of rocks stood Prince Viljar, waiting for his bride.

Viljar and Elsa had agreed to marry privately and in secret, with only their loved ones present, before moving forward with the customary royal wedding expected of Arendelle's monarchs. Though ever measured in her thoughts, Elsa had found the prospect to be so romantic - too romantic to pass up.

Reaching the end of the aisle, Kristoff guided Elsa's hand into Viljar's. Eyes full of love, Elsa warmly kissed her brother-in-law on the cheek, murmuring, "Thank you." She felt a tug on her dress and looked down to see Joan presenting her with a bouquet of flowers and the wedding rings. Curtseying so that her bridal skirts fanned out around her, Elsa kissed Joan everywhere she could reach.

"Auntie!" Joan giggled, squirming. "Stop!"

"Never, my little snowflake. I love you," Elsa whispered, her voice breaking. Then, she rose and turned with Viljar to face Grand Pabbie.

Holding an icy blue crystal, the troll chieftain officiated. "Elsa and Viljar, will you take each other to be lawfully and trollfully wedded spouses?"

"We will," came the answer in unison. A thin band of blue magic wrapped itself around the couple's joined hands.

"And will you be faithful to each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"We will." A second band of blue magic wrapped itself around their arms.

Grand Pabbie smiled in approval. "Then I declare you married and bonded for life. You may kiss."

Elsa and Viljar kissed tenderly as Kristoff and Joan applauded and the trolls cheered. Breaking the kiss, Elsa leaned in close to her new husband and whispered, "We're married. I love you."

Viljar grinned. "I love you back."

Somewhere, Elsa knew, Anna was smiling.

* * *

Viljar and Elsa lounged around in their bed one morning. Elsa was drumming her hands along her stomach, which was now quite pronounced, even under the bedclothes. Viljar kissed her temple gently.

"Do you think Kristoff has told her by now? How do you suppose she'll react?"

Elsa bit her lip in thought. "I'm sure she'll be happy for us. She's getting a little cousin to play with."

In the next second, however, Kristoff knocked on the door and then let himself in, looking more than a little frazzled, and bringing behind him a tearful Joan.

"I told her the splendid news, and she burst into tears," Kristoff explained, his unusually calm tone belying the strained look on his face. "There is something she'd like to ask."

Elsa beckoned for her niece, and Joan practically flew up onto the comforter and into her arms. Elsa smoothed back her hair, and kissed her forehead. "What is it, little snowflake?"

"Auntie..." Joan sniffled, initially struggling to get air through her tears. "If you're gonna have a baby... does that mean you'll love the baby more than me? That you won't love me anymore?"

Elsa gaped in astonishment and her heart broke. "Of course not, sweetie! Whatever made you think that?"

"Well," Joan hiccuped. "You love Uncle Viljar, and you love Daddy, and you love the baby. There can't be much love left for me. Love will thaw, but it isn't... unlimited." She seemed somewhat proud of using a big girl word.

Elsa smiled softly. "Oh, Joanie... but love _is_ infinite. I used to think as you do. But your mommy showed me otherwise." And the Queen kissed her niece again and again. "I will always love you, no matter what. Just because I'll have more family to love, like Uncle Viljar and your daddy and the baby, doesn't mean I'll love you any less." Joan nodded softly against her. "Do you believe me?"

"I do..." Joan smiled tentatively.

Elsa beamed back. "Would you like to feel her?"

Joan frowned, not getting her aunt's meaning, at least until Elsa moved her head to rest gently against her tummy. Pressing her face and hands against Elsa's womb, Joan was startled to sense that something was moving inside. "The baby..." she whispered, almost in awe, rubbing Elsa's tummy gently. "Hi, baby. I don't know if they told you. I'm your cousin, Joan. I bet you'll be a very pretty baby. You'll have a great mother. I have no memory of my mother... I never knew her... but your mommy has been a pretty good one to me." And she kissed Elsa's stomach gently.

Joan didn't notice the tears streaming down Elsa's cheeks...

* * *

Nine months later, Kristoff and Joan paced back and forth along the hallway outside of Elsa and Viljar's chambers. Olaf wasn't helping matters, by innocently chattering and postulating about what was going on inside; his companions' nerves were shot as it was.

Finally, the midwife emerged to address the Ice Master and young princess. "Her Majesty has delivered a beautiful baby girl. She is tired, but happy, and is willing to receive visitors."

Kristoff, Joan and Olaf eagerly pushed their way inside the Queen's chambers. Joan allowed her father to lift her onto Auntie Elsa's bed. The new mother smiled weakly at her, holding a pink bundle out to Joan.

"Joanie..." Elsa cooed. "This is Annabelle."

Kristoff got the hidden message immediately, breaking down in tears. After a moment, Joan understood as well. "After Mommy!"

Elsa chuckled. "Yes, after Mommy... kind of."

Joan bounced baby Annabelle gently. "At least there will be one Queen with the name Anna one day."

Extraordinary, the mind of a child was! Hearing that is what caused Elsa to lose it, crying with joy as she looked upon her new baby... and her first baby.

"Oh, Joan..." she sobbed, bringing her niece in for a hug. "You... my _perfect_ little girl..."


	9. Chapter 9: Together Again Soon

**Chapter 9: Together Again Soon**

Joan came skipping and laughing over the crest of the hill, her blonde hair flying behind her as she ran along the windswept plain. Behind her came her Uncle Viljar and Aunt Elsa hand-in-hand, the former of whom was carrying a picnic basket. Elsa had a year-old Annabelle perched on her hip. Kristoff brought up the rear, perched on Sven's back, and Olaf was seated between the reindeer's antlers.

Coming upon the headstones of the royal family, Joan spread out their picnic blanket.

"Hello, Mommy," Joan greeted the grave bearing her mother's name. "We thought we would bring our lunch to you today." The wind softly whistled across the plains, and Joan took that to be an answer from Anna.

"Auntie Elsa has a new baby: Annabelle, after you. She's nice. And Daddy's taking me out on more and more ice harvesting trips. Last week, I carved out a whole block of ice by myself! It was bigger than me!"

By now, the rest of the family had joined her, as Joan's voice became more quiet, introspective. "I miss you, Mommy. I wish you hadn't left me, but I love you anyway. I don't blame you for dying. I know you love me, because you left me in great hands. Daddy and Auntie Elsa love me very much. Uncle Viljar does, too - he saved my life once. You'd really like him."

The young girl felt a soft hand on her shoulder as Elsa knelt beside her and pressed a kiss to the headstone. "And you would also be proud of the beautiful young woman that your daughter is becoming," Elsa murmured softly and with love. "All is well here. Rest in peace, little sister. We miss you and we love you every day."

Coming up behind the women, Kristoff laid a bouquet of fresh flowers down beside Anna's grave. Salty tears clung to his cheeks. "Miss you forever, Feisty Pants. I love you, honey."

And holding out his burly arms, Kristoff pulled Elsa and Joan into an embrace. They were quickly joined by Viljar, Annabelle, Olaf and Sven. Their family would always be incomplete, without Anna. However, they had more than enough love to bind that hole, if not totally fill it. It really took a village - or, rather, a castle - to raise a child, but Elsa and Kristoff had done it - together. They would always be family. That would never change.


End file.
